


The Sound of Silence

by Bookman230



Series: Spin-Off [1]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Season/Series 06, lead up to the finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:32:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookman230/pseuds/Bookman230
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was the silence again. Lazy, for when the writer couldn't think of anything. Awkward. Painful. It throws off the flow and slows the pace. But sometimes you want it to stay for as long as possible. Just so things can stay the same. Just for a little. But things don't stay the same. Can't. Shouldn't."</p><p>Abed and Rachel talk. Annie and Britta bicker. And nothing stays the same, not even the silence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Silence

Abed still felt bouncy. Like he couldn't stand still. This was his moment. The pivotal turning point. His discovering superpower montage, his falling in love montage, his... his spinoff. Troy spun off. Shirley spun off. And now he was spinning off.. Was this what it felt like to not be stuck in place? Even hours after the news, he felt like Jeff Goldblum, stimming all over the place. He was running his hands over each other and pacing when there was a knock on the apartment door.

“That's mine!” he called out, notifying the others.

“The door is _ours_ , Abed!” Britta called back, apparently missing the point as he left his room. Annie and Britta were sitting on the couch, watching TV. He nodded in approval.

“ _Well_...” Annie started. “It's more mine, Abed's, and your parents, since, well, we pay for it...”

“Annie, I swear to God, one of these days-”

“Pow, right in the kissa!” Abed exclaimed, in an impression that was admittedly not his best. An awkward silence fell. “I'll get the door.”

“Right.”

“You'll do a better one next time, Abed,” Annie comforted. “They can't all be winners.”

“Tell that to Maurice LaMarche.” Another awkward pause. “I'm expanding my references pool. He's a veteran VA-”

“We know who he is, Abed.”

“He was Brian in Dinky and The Brian, right?”

“Britta,” Annie intoned in a tone somewhere between sympathetic and appalled.

“What? I didn't watch too many cartoons! Talking animals creep me out,” she admitted, shuffling awkwardly.

In an effort to avoid another silence, Abed just went for the door, opening it with a small smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” greeted Rachel. No smile. That wasn't good. Giving a smile means getting a smile, right, he didn't forget that? Wait, there it was. Cool. Cool cool cool. He led her inside and faced the others. “We'll be in my room.”

Britta rolled her eyes affectionately. “You don't have to tell us that, Abed, we're not your parents-”

“Leave the door open!” Annie put in at the same time.

“ _Annie_!” Britta exclaimed in the same tone Annie gave her.

“What? I don't want to miss any references or banter! I know TV too!”

Britta turned to Abed. “You can have your door closed.”

Annie gasped. Abed held back the reflex to imitate it. “You can't decide that on your own!”

“I just did.”

A harrumph. “Fine. But you are going to miss an _amazing_ Game of Thrones reference.”

“We'll live,” Rachel deadpanned.

“Jon Snow didn't.” After another awkward laughless silence, Annie clarified sheepishly, “That was the reference.”

“Annie!” Britta protested. “Spoilers!” Annie smiled apologetically.

“We're leaving. It's too much Office UK out here instead of Office US,” Abed said.

“UK was better anyway.”

“Don't you start, Britta-”

“It was an influential cornerstone for modern comedy that knew when to end! We didn't need nine seasons of Steve Carrell being a doofus and John Krasinki looking at the camera!”

“Especially when we have you for that.”

“What? I don't do any of those things!” She looked slightly off to the side.

“That would be a terrible place for a shot,” Abed put in.

“It's fun to pretend, okay! I'm the only one who can't roleplay?”

“First off... of _course_ you can! We need to set a date! Abed?”

“Logged,” he said, tapping his head.

“And secondly, in its golden age, US Office was a _masterpiece_ -”

Rachel tugged on his sleeve and pointed to his room. He nodded, and they slid into it while Annie and Britta kept arguing. He sat down on the bed. Rachel stood, and was the first to speak.

“What's up?”

“I have something to tell you,”

“There it is.”

“What?” He tilted his head. Rachel shrugged.

“Nothing. There's a flow to this, I won't get in the way of it.”

“Okay. I got a job. In LA. Filming intern.”

Her eyes widened. Silence fell. Again. This was TV kyrptonite. After a moment, she found her voice. “Wow. I wasn't... I didn't expect... LA?”

“Yeah.”

“So... what about us?” she asked softly, piercing through the quiet.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly.

“Long distance never works.”

“I know, I've seen the sitcoms.”

“I feel like I've barely seen you this year.”

He looked away. “I didn't mean to Brother Chuck you.”

“You did. Shirley left and you got all wrapped up in your study group again. And maybe don't refer to your girlfriend as brother.”

“I'm leaving them too. And noted.”

“I know. And I'm proud. I am.” Earnest sincerity dripped from her voice as she sat beside him. She gently grabbed his hand. “This will be good for you.”

There was the silence again. Lazy, for when the writer couldn't think of anything. Awkward. Painful. It throws off the flow and slows the pace. But sometimes you want it to stay for as long as possible. Just so things can stay the same. Just for a little. But things don't stay the same. Can't. Shouldn't. “But not for us?”

“Not for us.”

“Are we breaking up?”

“I felt that tone, yeah. We barely saw each other here. In LA...” she trailed off.

“I'm sorry. For False Romantic Leading you on.”

“Me too.” She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Stay gold, ponyboy.” She smiled. He weakly smiled back. Smile for a smile. Then she stood up, opened the door, and left. He heard the front door close. He waited for a few minutes more before going into the living room. Annie and Britta were still there, trying to act like they weren't interested, like they didn't know something happened. They turned to him, Britta talking first with a gentle, “Abed? You okay?”

“Your eyes are red,” Annie said softly.

Huh. “We broke up,” he stated plainly.

 Both of their faces shifted into sympathy. Annie sat up straighter with an, “Oh, Abed...” as he sat down between them. “What happened?”

“I don't want to talk about it yet.”

“Cool. Cool cool cool,” Britta said, letting it drop.

Annie smiled. “Sounds weird when you say it.”

“Always the critic. You don't see me criticizing you guys for 'Duh-doy'.”

“You didn't trademark 'duh-doy'.”

“No, but you can't deny there's an extra, signature Brittaness to it,” she defended, gesticulating like she was a master chef describing her recipe.

“It's called being a dork.”

“It's called being _adorkable_.”

Annie giggled. “Showing you TVTropes was a mistake.”

“You're just jealous I get it more than you, Bookworm Monkey.”

“Wha- that isn't one! You made that one up!” A tiny smile tugged at Abed's mouth.

“We're watching Pinky and the Brain. Annie needed to 'educate' me.”

“Cool. Cool cool cool.”

“See?”

“Okay, fine, fine!” Britta raised her hands up. “Abed wins.”

He was going to miss this. Her. Them. A part of him wished the Pinky and the Brain-filled silence, one of many, could last forever. And a part of him didn't.


End file.
